


The Hidden Hurt

by Ohsoprecious



Series: Vexeris Trevelyan [10]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, M/M, Past Child Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-12
Updated: 2016-10-12
Packaged: 2018-08-22 02:10:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8268769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ohsoprecious/pseuds/Ohsoprecious
Summary: "Do your parents know about your preference for men?""Yes.""How did they take that?""Poorly.""Well, they can't have taken it any worse than my father.""Trust me, if they could have, they would have tried that too.""Is that why you're on such poor terms with them?""That's only one of the things. Trust me, it's a long list."





	1. A few months before

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: There's nothing graphic in here.  
> I debated with myself for a long time about posting this. This was all born out of my need to explain *everything* and in this particular case as to the reason Vex is so trusting of Tevinter mages (which doesn't really make sense as a human noble taught to fear them).  
> After I wrote this piece I honestly nearly deleted it immediately, but it fit in so well with the backstory I had in mind for Trevelyan and explained things that at the time of writing I didn't even think about.  
> So I left it in my HD for the longest time. Until now.

"Inquisitor, if I may, I have a question."

The redhead raised his head from the dagger he was cleaning, giving the bald elf a curious look, before gesturing to sit beside him. But the elf didn't move.

"I find myself wondering what sparked your interest in magic. Do you have mages in your family?"

"No, though I know we have magic in our bloodline. Why?"

"In my experience, there are far more people afraid of magic than those that are not. Non-mages who have an interest in it are even rarer."

"My instructor, well one of them, came from Tevinter. He taught me everything I know. Took him years to tell me he was a mage, despite the fact he was more of a father to me than my real one."

"Was, Inquisitor?"

"He was.....He healed me when I broke my leg, falling from my horse, years ago. My family reported him, no matter how much I protested. He killed himself before the Templars came too close. Told me he loved me like a son and he'd rather be dead than in the Southern Circle. He left me everything he owned. The Templars couldn't confiscate anything since he was never part of the Circle. I moved out the next day."

"I apologize, Inquisitor. I had no intention of bringing up painful memories."

"It's fine, Solas. He was a good man. Taught me how to be more than the youngest son destined for the Chantry. Everything I am, I owe it to him."

"What was his name?"

"That, my friend, is a carefully guarded secret," he grinned, before returning to his work, cutting off the conversation.

 


	2. Hidden Hurt

"Vex? What's.....what's this?"

 

The rogue went completely rigid under him.

 

Dorian had a sudden wish for Alexius's time amulet. Rewind the last few seconds. Or minutes.

 

He'd wanted to surprise him. They returned only a few hours ago from the Western Approach, sand everywhere. Especially where it shouldn't have been.

 

They'd both bathed and changed clothes separately, on Dorian's insistence.

 

We'll never get anywhere, if we take a bath together, amatus.

 

But, he'd started calling this place their room.

 

So, once he was finally clean, and trimmed his mustache back to how it should look, instead of the mess it had become during the last few days of travel, he'd gone up the stairs to their room, up Skyhold's tallest tower.

 

Only to find the Inquisitor, sprawled on the four poster bed, half the drapes loose, sleeping on his stomach.

 

He only had pants on, his skin still glistening from the bath, his damp hair wetting the bed.

 

He must have been falling on his feet.

 

Dorian knew he should've let him rest. But he was feeling mischievous and he couldn't help himself.

 

His lover was making a rather delectable vision, right now.   

 

It was a testament to how tired Vexeris was when he didn't wake up as soon as the bed dipped under Dorian's weight.

 

The man only reacted when Dorian straddled him, his hands resting just below his shoulder blades.

 

"Mmmm....Dorian. M' too tired."

 

The mage laughed. Of course he was. He was simply enjoying having his lover beneath his hands. He didn't actually expect him to do anything more than let him explore.

 

Instead of answering, he started moving his hands along the man's back, massaging the tense muscles.

 

It was a skill he'd picked up as a fun diversion. Both as a quick way to seduce those who asked him for a massage at the Circle and as an excuse to spend a little more time with those men he actually liked.

 

"Didn't know you could do that," said the man beneath him, mumbling into the mattress.

 

"I'm full of surprises, my dear Inquisitor. Now, be still and enjoy it. I'm told I'm quite good with my hands."

 

He didn't notice it until much later. He was too distracted, too engrossed in what he was doing, feeling his lover strong back underneath him.

 

He was starting to feel a slight cramping in his hands. He hadn't done this in a while, but Vex was more relaxed than he'd seen him in a while.

 

So, he stopped, sitting back, just....admiring. The small freckles on the top of his shoulders. The defined muscles. The tanned skin born out of hours spent training under the sun.

 

He smirked to himself, a warm feeling spreading, like every time he thought of Vexeris. How despite all the slandering gossip, the accusations he faced, when the nobles thought he couldn't hear them, all the prejudice in the world wasn't worth missing this. Them.

 

He leaned forward, pressing a kiss just below his neck, inhaling the smell of his clean skin, of the scented soap he used, the only luxury he truly allowed himself.

 

He continued, placing soft, lazy kisses between his shoulder blades. It wasn't even particularly sexual, but every kiss spoke of an intimacy he'd never thought he'd have.

And he reveled in it, committing every second, every kiss to memory.

 

Once he was sufficiently satisfied with his work, he opened his eyes.

 

And that's when he noticed it.

 

He drew back instantly, the mood completely gone, changed.

 

He swallowed, his gaze going from his lover's back to his face.

 

"Vex? What's...what's this?

 

He knew exactly what Dorian meant.

 

Vexeris went completely rigid, undoing all the mage's work. At any other time, he would've lamented such a thing.

 

Now though.... Now he caresses his skin, his finger trailing on very old, very faint scars.

 

Scars he sadly recognized.

 

Scars that shouldn't be marring a noble's skin.

 

"I think it's pretty self explanatory, Dorian."

 

The mage looked up, startled by the coldness in Trevelyan's voice.

 

He expects anger. Or a mask of neutrality. Probably both.

Instead, Vexeris is looking at him, his face a mixture of mortification and worry.

 

Dorian felt his blood boil.

 

Whip marks. There were whip marks on his back. Old and faint, but still there.

 

Someone did this. Dared to do this to him.

 

They've been sleeping together for nearly five months. How had he not seen this before?

 

He wants to ask. He needs to ask. But..he doesn't know how.

 

Dorian leans forward again, only this time, the kiss ghosts over the fine white line, one of many.

 

The effect is immediate. Vex shudders, his whole body trembling. It takes him a moment to realize it's not excitement.

 

It's fear. Not of him.

 

Fear of an unexpected kindness. When reminded of a painful memory.

 

Fear of breaking down, letting the buried pain surface.

 

Dorian has seen it enough times on himself, to recognize it immediately.

 

He doesn't speak, his constricted throat doesn't allow him to, but instead lets his fingers ghost over the marks, treating them as delicately as possible.

 

He knows just because they're long closed, doesn't mean they're healed.

 

"They thought they could beat it out of me."

 

His voice is raw, struggling not to break, not to go there again, to be that boy again.

 

"My.....mother, she....."

 

Dorian has to swallow, push down his own grief over this. He knew he had a bad relationship with his parents.

 

He'd told him they'd have tried blood magic if they could have.

 

He hadn't realized it meant they'd tried other ways.

 

"They......when I refused to...."

 

Dorian wanted to look at him, to see him, but Vex was keeping his face firmly against the bed, his fists clenched above it.

 

He didn't dare try to move him.

 

"I lied to Solas....when he asked about my Tevinter instructor."

 

The mage let him take his time, not speaking, just being there.

 

"He was....when he found out what they were doing, he....he didn't kill himself. He was killed.

He was murdered while getting me out of there."

 

Vex was trembling. If he'd dared look up, Dorian could've seen the tears trailing down his face.

 

He felt powerless. Powerless to stop the floodgates he'd unwittingly opened. Unable to help in any way.

 

"They.....put me in this...room. It was...below. I never knew where. They'd....use the whip....my mother used the whip. After.....after...I don't know how long...they'd drag me to a bed. Told me if I didn't fuck the whore there, they'd whip me again."

 

Maker.....his mother? His own mother? She did this?

 

"What....what did you do?"

 

"I...refused, no matter how many.....they chained me to the bed and forced her to......"

 

He felt sick. Physically. Nausea was making his stomach lurch and he thanked whatever god was out there he hadn't eaten.

 

This was....this was perhaps even worse than what happened to him.

 

At least his parents had loved him. Up until he discovered the blood ritual, no one had ever laid a hand on him. Not even in the more intense fights had his father raised a hand on him.

 

Rage. Blind hot rage.

 

Parents were supposed to protect their children. Nurture them. Love them.

 

Not _this_.

 

"Dorian. Your....hands are...."

 

He snatched them away instantly, magic sizzling in the air.

 

It took all his control, all his years of training to make the scorching heat die.

 

Dorian moved to lie beside him, crushing him into an embrace.

 

He'd protect him. He'd sworn he'd protect him.

 

A promise, lighthearted at the time, but one he'd taken to heart since then.

 

"I swear to you, I will never let them touch you again. If they ever dare come close to you again, I'll show them exactly why mages are feared," Dorian swore, his voice shaking with anger and grief.

 

He meant it. He meant every word. He'd burn them alive, taking great care to make it last.

 

They'll never hurt him again.

**Author's Note:**

> To all those who commented on my previous stories: THANK YOU!  
> I read all of your comments (more than once), I am just really really bad at answering messages. :)


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